


Second Chances

by PresidentofGallifrey



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresidentofGallifrey/pseuds/PresidentofGallifrey
Summary: Lucky had been on the streets his whole life. He was a drifter, a loner, a stray no one would look twice at. Once Lucky had had a real name, but nobody had called him that in so long that he couldn’t remember what it was anymore.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave comments.

       Lucky had been on the streets his whole life. He was a drifter, a loner, a stray no one would look twice at. Once Lucky had had a real name, but nobody had called him that in so long that he couldn’t remember what it was anymore. People called him Lucky for his good luck, but in reality, he was just a really good hustler. He could play any card game and come out on top. It wasn’t much but it kept him alive and that was enough.

       It was also what put him on the Gang’s radar. The Gang wasn’t the creative name, if you asked Lucky. He could come up with a hundred better, more clever ones. But that was the thing. No one cared about what he had to say, so he learned to keep his mouth shut, to read people’s faces, which was what made him so good at hustling. A viscous cycle.

       He hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Gang. He was a hustler, not a criminal. He had standards, even though no one believed it. He wouldn’t just take something from someone and he certainly didn’t take anything from those less fortunate than him. It wasn’t his fault if idiots chose to play cards with someone sitting on the sidewalk, but he got his money with pure skill.

       But no one said no to the Gang. They ruled the streets. If they wanted, they could make your life a living hell. Lucky tried to stand up to them, but he was outnumbered one to thirty. They’d show up at the end of each day, take his money and leave him bruised and bloody, barely holding on to life. Eventually, he’d folded. What choice did he have? They were bigger, in every sense of the world.

       The Boss was a sadistic bastard, six-feet of muscle and emotionless blue eyes. He’d looked down at Lucky and told him that his life was no longer his. It was worse than a living hell. Everyone in the Gang had a brand, to show that they belonged to the Boss. Lucky remembered being held down, screaming as the hot metal was pressed into the flesh of his arm.

       It was worse than a living hell. Lucky had to steal, kill, do all sorts of things he’d never had done when he’d been on his own. There was a quota to meet and if he didn’t deliver he got a beating. Sometimes, he’d receive a beating for no reason other than to remind him that he was the property of the Boss. The living conditions were horrible and he often went to sleep hungry, far more than before. He’d given up his freedom for nothing.

       Lucky thought he’d spend the rest of his life like that till he met Charlie. He’d been wandering the streets, looking for a target so he would at least have something to show, even if he knew it made no difference. To the Boss, one wallet was the same as no wallets. He’d trailed Charlie for a block or so, making his move when they reached the mouth of an alleyway. If things went south, he could make a quick getaway.

       Charlie had smashed him against the wall before he’d had time to react, fingers twisted in his collar. He must have look terrified. Charlie had looked at the way his shirt hung off his bony frame, eyes softening. He’d shoved some money in Lucky’s hand. ‘Buy yourself some dinner. You look half dead.’ He’d muttered before walking away.

        It was the first time anyone had willingly given him money. Lucky had stood there, staring at the bills like they were going to disappear at any moment. He’d half expected Charlie to come back and beat him up. Sometimes people give him things just so they had an excuse to pick a fight. After all, why would a cop believe a hobo over an honest citizen?

       The next time he saw Charlie was a couple of months later. It had been raining for days and the streets were flooded. He was huddled in the doorway of a restaurant, trying to stay away from the water lapping at the steps. Charlie had showed up and taken him to a diner.

        He’d asked him if he wanted a job, a proper job, one that came with food and board. Lucky had never wanted to say yes more in his life, but in the back of his mind there was the nagging feeling that the Boss would find out and make sure that Lucky paid with his life, so he’d lied. Charlie had looked surprised when he said that he already had a job. The lie stabbed at him like barbed thorns, but he stuck to it, even when Charlie pointed out that he was sleeping outside, in the rain, without so much as a coat.

        Lucky thought he’d seen the last of Charlie then. Winter came and life became harder. He came down with a series case of pneumonia, which was basically a death sentence since he had no money to afford the medication. He was shivering despite his fever being hot enough to fry eggs and his coughing kept everyone up. The Boss had told the others to take him away and leave him somewhere, stating that he ‘didn’t want a corpse attracting rats.’ He’d lain behind a stack of cardboard boxes, wondering if anyone would find his body before the crows did.

        He’d woken up in a hospital bed with Charlie sitting at his bedside. Apparently, he hadn’t bought Lucky’s story and had been following him for months, hoping Lucky would change his mind. He asked again and this time Lucky said yes. As far as the Boss was concerned, Lucky was dead. He’s life was his again

        Lucky couldn’t believe how his life had turned. He had a roof over his head, more than that, he had his own room, complete with hot and cold shower. He had a bed to sleep in. He didn’t have to worry about going hungry anymore and he got a salary. Money that was all his own! It seemed like something out of a fairytale.

        Then came the day the past came back to bite him.

        He’d just finished working on a case with Charlie and was heading back when he heard a voice hiss from the shadows.

       ‘Luckyyyy’

       He froze, turning to meet a pair of eyes he thought he’d never see again. The Boss strolled towards him, lazy yet menacing.

       ‘Thought you were dead, boy.’

       ‘Lucky, come on. Let’s go.’ He turned his head towards the familiar voice. Charlie was standing a few paces away,

       ‘This is a private conversation.’ The Boss stated calmly. He whistled and before Lucky could scream at him to run, two more shapes appeared and forced Charlie to his knees.

       ‘Now, where were we?’ The Boss took another step forward and Lucky backed away unconsciously.

       ‘I don’t want any trouble. Let my friend go and we’ll get out of your hair.’

       The Boss chuckled. ‘I think you’re forgetting, boy. I own you.’

       Charlie swallowed and glanced at the brand on his arm. He’d never shown it to anyone, not even to Charlie. It was a symbol of his past and he wanted nothing to do with that life anymore.

       ‘You left me to die.’

       ‘I was testing you.’ The Boss’s voice had turned sweet. ‘To prove you can stand on your own two feet. After all, I need someone tough to take over when I’m gone.’ The Boss clapped him on the shoulder and Lucky shuddered. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.’ His gaze flicked over Lucky’s clothes.

       Lucky frowned and tried to pull away. The Boss tightened his grip and gave him a sleazy smile. ‘Come on, Luck. We’re your real family, not that pathetic excuse for a man over there. Why do you think he took you through here? He’s just waiting for you to run off.’

       ‘No. Lucky, don’t listen to him. I-uummph.’ Charlie tossed his head, trying to dislodge the wad of cloth shoved in his mouth, but the figures shoved him into the ground, pulling his arms back and causing him to choke.

       ‘See, Lucky? Why would he try to deny it if it wasn’t true? You’ll never truly be happy there, trust me. I know you, you’re not meant to be cooped up. You’re heart’s wild, through and through.

       Lucky frowned. Charlie had been nothing but good to him, but he sometimes got the feeling that he was annoyed by Lucky’s lack of education and when the others chatted, he found it hard to join in. On the streets, his only concern had been to find enough food to get him through the day.

       The Boss seemed to sense his hesitation. He started to steer Lucky away, talking all the while. ‘Lucky, my boy, you’re gonna be king of the streets someday. All this will be yours. You’ll hold lives in your hands. Now that’s real power.’

       Lucky glanced back. Charlie was staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. He stumbled. He’d found happiness at last, could he really give it up so easily?

       ‘Don’t worry about him. Pretty soon you’ll forget all about him.’

       The Boss gave a nod and the two men started to drag Charlie away. He growled behind the gag and twisted, trying to break their grip. Lucky was pretty sure he heard something pop but Charlie didn’t seem the least bit deterred.

       The Boss grabbed his arm. ‘Let’s go, Luck.’

       ‘No.’

       ‘You forget who you’re talking to, boy.’

       ‘I said no.’ He stepped back, shrugging off the Boss’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie’s eyes widen hopefully.

       The Boss stalked towards Lucky, his joviality disappearing like fog on a sunny day. ‘I hoped to do this the easy way, but if you don’t want the carrot, I’ve got the stick too. I’ll beat it into your thick skull and when I’m done, boy, you’ll never even _think_ about saying no to me again.’

       Lucky was scared, but he stood his ground as the Boss advanced. ‘I’ve got a home now.’

       The Boss let out a derisive laugh. ‘A home? Is that what you call it? You’re useful, that’s all. When you’ve outlasted your usefulness, they’ll toss you back out into the streets. And when they do, I’ll make sure you don’t make it through the night.’

       ‘No, you won’t.’ He said quietly as he lunged forward and plunged his knife into the Boss’s throat.

       A look of surprise crossed the Boss’s face, his hands flying up to his throat, trying to stop the cascade of blood. Lucky leapt back, wincing as the blood splattered him. It kept flowing, on and on, until surprise turned to horror. The Boss crumpled, eyes going blank, lifeless body pitching forward with a heavy thud.

       The others took one look at Lucky, covered in the Boss’s blood, and turned tail and ran. Charlie was lying on the ground, eyes closed. He groaned as Lucky helped him up. Opening his eyes, he stared in horror.at Lucky.

       ‘Don’t worry. It’s not mine.’

       He nodded, too pained to speak. His left arm was clearly dislocated, lying at an awkward angle. Without warning, Lucky shoved it back in, earning a loud scream from Charlie.

       ‘Warn a guy, will you?’

       ‘Sorry.’

       ‘Are you okay?’ Charlie asked.

       ‘I killed him.’ Lucky said, glancing at the Boss’s prone body. He didn’t like killing, even though the bastard had deserved it.

       Charlie gently guided him away. ‘Come on, Let’s go home.’


End file.
